


The Red-Headed Santa

by OperaPhantom



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Family, Family Fluff, Fluff, Happy Sansa Stark, One Shot, Soft Tormund Giantsbane, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Wulf Pack 12/20
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:01:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27972011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OperaPhantom/pseuds/OperaPhantom
Summary: Tormund and Sansa celebrate Christmas with their family. Both of them go a little overboard, but in very different ways.
Relationships: Tormund Giantsbane/Sansa Stark
Comments: 12
Kudos: 17
Collections: Pack Member Stories





	The Red-Headed Santa

Sansa sighed happily as the snowflakes covered the trees and piled up into drifts outside. She loved the snow. She loved how it muted the sounds, how it softened the edges of the crazy world. She loved how it crunched under foot when she walked, how it tasted clean and fresh when she bit into a handful, how it could be piled into shapes for building anything she could imagine. Was it any wonder that her best-known paintings always included snow?

She heard the door burst open. Thank the gods, Old and New, for the mudroom they’d built when they bought the cabin. If not, the snow and cold air would be pouring into the rest of the house instead of being trapped in the small room. Tormund came in, dropping a large red cloth sack and rubbing his hands together, the snowflakes in his thick beard melting from the warmth.  
“Did you forget your mittens again?” she asked.  
Her husband pulled them out of his pocket, waving them in the air. “No, they’re right here! Just wet and cold. Again.” He laid them on the lacey metal shelf that jutted out from the fireplace. Sansa shook her head; the fact that they’d had to install it for just that purpose spoke to the frequency of the oddly common occurrence for her red-headed Wildling.

Tormund pulled a very recognizable red suit out from the sack. “What do you think? Good enough for Santa?”  
Sansa nodded. “I think so. When will Santa come by to pick up his laundry?”  
Tormund laughed. It was a big, full-bellied sound. Her husband wasn’t a quiet man, unless he was putting the kids to sleep. She was very glad they’d sound-proofed the living room; they’d have three children down here otherwise. And that wouldn’t do, not when they had so much left to prepare for Santa’s arrival.

Santa’s famous red suit was a little different this year. It and the matching hat were trimmed not with fake fur, but with puffs of snow white wool from Jon and Ygritte’s sheep. The belt and boots, both richly embossed, came from Arya and Gendry’s leatherworking business. And the cloth had been woven by Talisa, Robb’s wife, from the sheep on their farm.  
But something was missing. "I thought Santa was supposed to have a white beard?" she asked, reaching out to touch his very red facial hair.  
"Why would I cover up this magnificence,” he said, gesturing to his natural beard, “with some terrible store-bought plastic? Who’s to say Santa wasn’t kissed by fire, like us, before he got old?” He switched tactics. “Besides, I thought we'd have a tree, not a tower of ornaments. Do we still have furniture under all these decorations?" he teased, his blue eyes twinkling with a playful light.

She huffed. He was the one who’d insisted on a nine-foot tree. She’d simply decorated it enough so that it didn’t look sparse or patchy. So what if there were garlands on every wall and doorway, if each door had a wreath, if the chairs and couches had Christmas covers, and if most of the windows had Christmas clings that the kids put on… Okay, maybe she had gone a little overboard. But it was their first Christmas here! They’d never had the space in their apartment. This wasn’t just the place they lived, it was their _home_. And home meant lots of Christmas decorations. Including Christmas pillows on every couch and chair. Which was exactly what she told her husband.

Tormund laughed again, grinning at her. “All this makes you happy, then?” he asked.  
Smiling, she kissed him on the tip of his nose. “Yes. The kids too; they loved helping Mommy decorate. And even you. Don’t tell me that you don’t like the fact that a woodsy Victorian Christmas got teleported into our home. Besides, I know you went overboard too.”  
He shrugged, suddenly too casual for her liking. She was about to ask what was going on when they heard footsteps. Quickly, Tormund stuffed the Santa outfit back in the sack, going to hide the bag in the mudroom cupboard. Three children, ages seven and five, rocketed down the stairs.

Seven year old Lyarra stopped right in front of her mother. “Are the cookies done?” she asked. Hope shone in the eyes of her and her siblings, the five year old twins Eddard and Karlis.  
“They should be. Do you want to help me check them?”  
At three enthusiastic nods, she led them into the kitchen. The cookies were cooling off fine, if the cookies in Tormund’s mouth and hands were any indication.  
“Daddy!” shrieked all three children.  
Eddard pouted as only small children can. “Those cookies are for Santa,” he grumbled.  
Tormund put down the two cookies and gathered all three kids onto his lap. “I know they are, my little gingersnaps. I was simply making sure they taste good enough for him. We don’t want to give Santa yucky cookies, do we?”  
All three children shook their heads, although Karlis looked askance at her father. “Are you just saying that so you can eat cookies?” she asked him, rather precocious and clever for a five year old. Sansa hid her smile as Tormund did his best to convince her that no, he was not, and in fact he and Santa were friends because Santa was also descended from the Free Folk like they were.

It took some time, but somehow Tormund managed to convince them. In a better mood once they realized there were still plenty of cookies for Santa, the children proceeded to decorate their cookies. Karlis was fascinated by abstract art, and iced her cookies accordingly. Eddard’s flowers would be more at home at a garden party, but he’d inherited both Sansa’s love of all things beautiful and Tormund’s green thumb. Lyarra’s cookies were more traditional, although there were a lot of direwolves. Sansa and Tormund finished cooking a smaller Christmas Eve dinner for tonight; tomorrow would be when the entire Stark family got together for the family celebration, but the kids loved holiday food so much that they had it for both Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. By the time they finished dinner, the icing on the cookies had dried. Each child had their own special plate, so that Santa knew who the cookies came from. Instead of milk, they poured Santa a glass of apple juice from this year’s Stark Orchards harvest.

They watched Christmas movies until the children got tired, which was halfway through the first movie. Sansa and Tormund tucked them into bed, covering them with the heirloom quilts from Tormund’s childhood. Sansa loved how good her husband was with their kids. She remembered how scared he’d been when Lyarra was born, afraid he’d accidentally hurt their little girl. He was much more confident now, though still gentle.

Once they were sure the kids wouldn’t come down to peek, they got to work. Sansa had finished wrapping the presents yesterday, the kids having spent the day with Arya and Gendry as he made his rounds checking the shoes of the horses in the area. She placed them under the tree in neat piles. The presents from Santa were placed in the red sack. Tormund took the opportunity to change into his Santa suit. Catelyn had made a shirt to simulate Santa’s “bowl full of jelly”, which meant no accidental pillow drops; apparently Sansa had cried for days when that happened to her father at her second Christmas, although she didn’t remember it. To Sansa’s delight, Tormund had also gotten some fake spectacles, the old-fashioned wire-rimmed kind, and some temporary white dye for his beard, hair, and eyebrows. It didn’t cover all the red, but it did give him a wonderfully aged appearance. She sauntered up to him.  
“You know, I’ve never had a thing for Santa suits, but you make it look awfully good,” she crooned, biting her lip.  
Tormund gave her a quick kiss, careful not to ruin the dye. “If you’re on the nice list, I’ll make sure you get a present,” he growled with an exaggerated eyebrow waggle.  
“What if I’m on the naughty list?” she teased.  
His eyes went dark. “I’ll-”

The clock chimed, reminding them of the late hour. They needed to finish before the children fell asleep. Quickly, Sansa filled the stockings hanging on the mantel. Luckily it hadn’t snowed since yesterday, so the “sleigh tracks”, “reindeer hoof prints”, and “Santa’s boot prints” that Tormund made earlier were still visible outside. Keeping the kids inside all day had been difficult, but Sansa knew it would be worth it.

When everything was ready, Tormund winked at her. He let out a belly laugh worthy of Santa. “Merry Christmas! There’s three young Wildlings that I need to see,” he bellowed cheerfully. They heard the thunder of little feet running down the stairs. The children stopped at the bottom of the staircase. When they saw the big heir eyes lit up and went as wide as saucers.  
“Santa!” Karlis and Lyarra ran towards Tormund, while little Eddard bounced in place.  
“Santa?” he asked.  
Sansa nodded. “Santa decided to visit, sweetie.”  
He gasped, then ran forward and latched onto Tormund’s leg.

Tormund looked down at them. “Delivering presents is hard work, and your mother makes such good cookies that I decided to rest here for a few minutes. Now I’ve already put your presents under the tree, but I still need to give the animals theirs. Will you three help me?”  
Lyarra and Eddard nodded, but Karlis looked skeptically at him. “How can you visit all the kids if you stop here? There’s millions and millions of kids.”  
Tormund winked at her through his glasses. “Magic, little Wildling,” he whispered conspiratorially. “Those with the blood of the Free Folk running through them can do anything they want.”  
Karlis thought on that for a few moments, then nodded. “That makes sense,” she said decisively. “Now we gotta give presents to the animals.”

They bundled up so they wouldn’t get chilled. Sansa smiled at her family as they walked to the barn. The kids loved Tormund’s Santa, despite the red peeking through the dye, and were excited to give the animals their Christmas presents. She stopped dead in her tracks when she heard the jingle of bells and saw the tines of antlers poking out from the far stall. She turned to her suddenly, and uncharacteristically, sheepish husband. “…Tormund,” she said over the excited squeals of their children, not really believing her eyes, “is that a reindeer?”

**Author's Note:**

> Another complete story just a month and a half after posting one. I think that's a record for me!  
> This one is for TheRedWulf's December Pack Prompt. It's a monthly prompt over on TheRedWulf's Discord server (if you want to join, check out one of her recent stories for the link).  
> As you can see, I've started making picsets. You can find some of them on my Tumblr, grittyknittygrrrl, and I'll be posting more soon. Most go with stories I'm writing or have written, but some are unattached.  
> I really struggle with writing one-shots, especially short one-shots, so the fact that this came together in just under a week is a big deal for me. This is, in my opinion, one of my best stories. So I hope y'all enjoy it!


End file.
